Sanguine Night
by Dark Knight Gafgar
Summary: The Dark Brotherhood comes to Konoha, life gets interesting. And short. Naruto/Elder Scrolls crossover, rating for mature themes.


**Sanguine Night**

**By: Dark Knight Gafgar**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing that is not mine, and everything that IS mine. Capiche?

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**Prologue - The Color of Night**

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Josui Murai ran like his life depended on it.

Mostly because it _did_.

The twenty-five year old Konoha native could never be mistaken for anyone special. He had attended the Ninja Academy but failed to become a Genin, taking the test only once before dropping out to join his father in the family business. His father had never quite been the same after Josui's mother and younger sister had died in the Kyuubi attack just over twelve years ago, and managed the store's affairs with little gusto. On some months they barely broke even. Josui had attempted to supplement their income through games of chance, gambling money loaned from various moneylenders in Konoha and typically managing to win just enough to pay off his debt and have a little left over to keep the shop's books in the black... until last week, that is, when Josui, faced with a rather large pot - a full twenty thousand Ryo! - had bet everything he had on him.

And lost.

His debtors had of course been very understanding. So understanding that the assassin they had hired was under strict orders to make his death quick and mostly painless.

Mostly.

Josui spared a quick glance over his shoulder, eyes widening as he saw his pursuer following silently behind him. The hired killer wasn't any kind of shinobi he had ever seen, clad entirely in black leather - why did he get the feeling that all black _should_ be the usual ninja wear? - that seemed at times to both shimmer in the darkness and completely meld with it, with no hitai-ate in sight. The assassin sure moved like a nin though, gracefully sprinting after him, silent as the moonless night sky above.

Putting on a burst of speed, Josui drew upon almost-forgotten lessons from over a decade ago, from a time before the Kyuubi when much more was expected of Konoha shinobi, even mere academy students and genin, than was today. Leaping up into the leafy canopy above, he began to jump quickly from tree to tree, the move seeming to surprise his pursuer who quickly fell behind as Josui put more and more distance between them. Soon the assassin had fallen out of sight, but still Josui continued on at full speed, determined to not slow down until he had crossed out of the Land of Fire entirely. He felt fairly certain his father in Konoha, who was fairly well connected in the village council, would be safe from harm, though he did worry about the future of the shop-

Suddenly Josui's legs became unresponsive, and he slammed into a particularly thick branch before falling painfully to the ground below in a heap, paralyzed by the twin impacts. He dreamily wondered what had happened, slowly looking down towards his lower body, his attention drawn to the blood-drenched blade that stuck out from his belly, lodged firmly in his lower back and severing his spinal cord.

Oh. That explained it.

Josui blinked his eyes slowly, analyzing his current situation with an unnatural level of detachment. He was critically, perhaps fatally injured, paralyzed from the waist down and bleeding freely from the wound in his stomach. The fog rapidly clouding his mind must be the onset of shock. He was at least several miles away from Konoha, lying in the middle of a forest, and it was night. No help would be coming for him anytime soon, and he lacked the ability to treat himself.

He was going to die, he realized, eyes widening as he lay back, staring up into the sky above, the stars thankfully visible in his final moments through a break in the forest canopy. He was mortally wounded and about to die, even without taking into account the assassin that was chasing him.

Right on cue, his killer dropped down into view nearby, landing in a crouch and then slowly rising up into a standing position, a long, wickedly curved dagger in hand. The assassin, Josui was somewhat surprised to see, was a girl - a very young girl, only a little older than he had been in the Academy. Her face was only partially visible, mostly obscured in the shadow of her hood, and what little that could be seen suggested the emotionless expression of a hardened and trained murderer.

It was sad, he thought, that the world was such a place that children had to grow up so early. For one so young, she seemed quite beautiful - far too beautiful for a member of her bloody occupation, with curves that were rather mature for her age and a mouth that seemed better suited for happy smiling and laughter than grim silence. No doubt she would grow up into a fine woman someday, provided her life was not cut short in the manner of her profession. He only wished he could see her eyes, perhaps glean some insight from them, some hint of what had twisted such a girl into the angel of death he saw before him.

The girl regarded him silently for several long moments, and then suddenly she was upon him, her dagger thrusting into his heart and twisting viciously. Josui gasped as pain bloomed within his chest, followed by numbness as whatever toxin the blade had been coated in spread through his veins. He let out a shuddering, wet cough, blood dribbling down to his chin, and Josui felt his eyes grow heavy, unable to resist the urge to close them.

"Rest now." came a soft, whispered voice, "It'll all be over soon."

And then there was only an all-consuming darkness.

-----

Every city, town, and hidden (or not-so-hidden) village had it's fair share of abandoned buildings. Konoha had even more than usual, with two disasters in recent memory contributing significantly to it's lack of population. The Kyuubi attack had left hundreds dead, with dozens of buildings destroyed or damaged beyond repair, and the Uchiha massacre had left an entire district silent and slowly falling into ruin, it's lone occupant too obsessed with his dreams of vengeance to make more than a paltry attempt at upkeep over anything beyond the immediate area around his lodgings.

The area on the northwestern outskirts of Konoha, in the shadow of the mountain upon which the visages of the Hokages had been carved, had once been a calm little neighborhood just outside the city's outer walls, isolated from the heart of the village and home to those who sought a certain measure of privacy in their surroundings. Even then there had been rumors, whisperings of dark figures in the night, of shadows that moved in ways that were unsettling, even frightening to all but the most hardened of veteran jounin. The Kyuubi's sudden assault on Konoha had slaughtered the area's residents almost to the last, and dozens of Konoha's finest shinobi had fallen in battle against the Nine-Tailed Fox there as they fought to keep the demonic beast from entering any further into the Village Hidden in the Leaves. Such a stigma had been attached to the area, with fanciful tales of tormented souls that cried out for vengeance and the corpses of Konoha's former citizens, reanimated by the latent demonic power of the Nined-Tailed Fox, stalking the streets in search of prey, that little effort had been expended at rebuilding the destroyed district. Thus, no one noticed as the shadows stopped moving by themselves, and the dark figures in the night dwindled into extinction. The area became utterly, utterly still and lifeless, and so it had remained...

Until now.

Tonight, as it had been on several nights over the past two years, one dark figure did move silently through the shadows, stalking fearlessly through the streets, her prey already lying slain in the forest a few miles away. The assassin clad in leather as dark as the night moved quickly, pausing in the shadows to watch for any sign of unwanted observation, before moving on towards a ruined, fire-gutted mansion that lay nestled against the slope of the mountain. Dashing from one shadow to the next, all but invisible even to the most watchful of eyes, the figure slowly and methodically came closer to the mansion, finally reaching the last shadow that lay between her and the gaping hole where the doors had once been, separated by an open pathway. The figure knelt, head low, searching the surrounding area in ways that had little to do with natural eyesight, and then with a swift motion of the hand and a whispered word of power, she disappeared entirely. Only the most talented of illusionists would have been able to notice anything amiss as the figure calmly strolled across the path, cloaked in an invisibility born of neither chakra nor jutsu, directly through the blackened doorway and into the darkness beyond it.

Continuing to move silently, stepping surely around debris and avoiding those places where the rotting wood of the floor had collapsed into precarious pitfalls, the assassin continued to make her way into the northern wing of the mansion, descending down towards the basement, hardly noticing as the invisibility spell surrounding her faded away. Finally reaching a small storeroom that lay buried deep beneath the mountain's sharply rising cliffside, she stopped once more, searching the area around her one last time for any sign of pursuit, and, finding none, stepped forward, around the jagged edges - smeared lightly with fatal poison - of a smashed crate, then strode confidently toward a fire-blackened section of wall...

...And then stepped _through_ it, passing the illusion that cloaked the corridor beyond without blinking an eye. Following the dark corridor, the assassin took a sharp turn, calmly descending a set of stone steps into a structure that was most certainly older than the ruined mansion above. This place was made of stone, not wood, and ancient stone, black as night, an aura of power exuding from each intricately and precisely cut block like the gentle exhalations of a newborn child. The killer outwardly took no notice, but if anyone were there to watch, they would have seen the ghost of a smile appear on what little was visible of the girl's face as she entered into a place that was familiar and comfortable to her. Turning once again and continuing her descent, the darkness began to recede as an unnatural red light began to pervade the tunnel, and as the girl turned twice more she found herself approaching a macabre and unholy door, the crimson light flowing forth from it like blood from a mutilated corpse. The door was also made of stone, dull gray trimmed with black obsidian, a nightmarish scene engraved upon it - a female figure, standing under the watchful gaze of a titanic skull which was inset with a handprint made in blood, towering over a number of infantile silhouettes that stood before her, arms raised in supplication. In one arm she cradled one of her children, while with the other she held aloft a black dagger, poised to plunge down into the child's heart...

The assassin increased her pace, almost running toward the blasphemous portal with an eagerness that most would claim was born of no small amount of insanity. Coming to a sudden halt before the doorway, the girl brought the fingers of her right hand to her lips, then pressed them against the stone even as she slid to her knees in reverence. She bowed her head, waiting for the sign, even as the door visibly and audibly pulsed with energy. Kneeling before it, it sounded almost like the beating of a human heart... suddenly the skull engraved upon the doorway's eyes flashed red, then dimmed into a total black as a raspy, ghostly voice called out towards the girl before it.

_**"What is the color of night?"**_ came the query.

Hinata Hyuuga reached up, pulling her hood back as she lifted her eyes up to stare into the dark visage of her lord.

"Sanguine, my brother!" was her reply, whispered yet still forceful, her face and eyes alight in worshipful rapture.

The portal abruptly split in half, directly down the middle, with a loud crack, shuddering into movement as it haltingly opened the way for her. Hinata stood, bowing her head once again, and stepped unhesitatingly through the threshold. Immediately and with shocking speed the doorway slammed shut behind her, then sealed with a hiss.

_**"Welcome home."**_

Hinata smiled.

_'Home...'_

-----

She remembered it quite clearly. _That Night_ the weak, stuttering fool she had once been had died by her hand, drowned in blood. _That Night_ that she had lost one family, and gained another. _That Night_ that her father had told her, in no uncertain terms, that she was a failure. A failure to herself, a failure to her clan, and a failure to him. Her sister, Hanabi, would take her place as clan heir. She would be given the cursed seal by the week's end, exiled to the Branch family, forbidden from furthering her education as a kunoichi ever again. Preparations to locate a suitable husband for her would be made with haste. Of course, marriage to someone of her own age would be a foolish venture - no doubt by the time she and her suitor were old enough to be wed, she would have somehow managed to fail herself right into a grave! There were, fortunately, plenty of other prospects, plenty of older men who would not be opposed to the idea of immediately marrying such a... ripe... specimen such as her. They would no doubt be able to ensure her survival when she couldn't, even if only for a short while longer, would they not? Perhaps that wealthy merchant from the Wave Country...

Hinata remembered how she had been unable to completely control her tears, despite her best efforts, and how her father had noticed her glistening eyes and coldly ordered her to her room. She had complied, locking herself within, and there gave into the depression. She had wept openly, her control failing her - yet another failure! - completely. She had not even needed the Byakugan to know that the elders had stood outside her door then, watching in disgust with their all-seeing eyes as she wallowed in her misery and content in their knowledge that the _excess_ had finally been culled from the Main house. Then they had left, and shortly Hinata found herself baring her chest to the dagger in her hands, whispering apologies to the boy who had once given her some hope for herself-

Then she stopped. Where had the knife come from? Certainly she had never seen it before, it's hilt ornate, made of a glassy black metal lined in gold, it's blade dark and sharp and glistening with a vile-smelling toxin. The dagger was of a make she had never seen before, so unlike the kunai, tanto, or ninjato blades she had seen in the past. Hinata had stared at it for several seconds, mesmerized by it. It had seemed to her, then, like her closest friend in the whole world. Finally snapping out of her reverie, she glanced around nervously for a sign of someone watching her, perhaps wishing to witness her final failure. They would be disappointed!

But no one was around. Standing, she walked to the window, gasping at the sight outside - it was dark already! But it had hardly been noon when she had been sent to her room! All but the guards scattered around the mansion must be sound asleep by now, including her father. And her sister...

Hinata paled, stumbling backwards and falling ungracefully upon her rear, eyes wide in horror as a thought forced it's way to the forefront of her mind. It would be so simple - she knew the guards, where they were, when they wouldn't be looking in this direction or that with their mortal sight or using their Byakugan eyes to see in all directions at once, when they would be sleeping or busying themselves with sake or cards... She knew the route, how to do the deed and return without being spotted. No doubt she would be executed if caught, but even if she could just accomplish her task and deprive her father of his _favored_ daughter...

Hinata curled up into herself, clutching her shoulders with an almost painfully tight grip, the blade still in hand, seeming to whisper it's malevolent temptations into her ear. She wouldn't be caught. _Couldn't_ be caught. She could make it look like an assassination, even that she had been attacked herself, and drove her attacker off, succeeding where the 'superior' Hanabi had failed...

Before she was even aware that she had made her decision, Hinata found herself slipping silently through the night, almost in a trance, avoiding the guards and sentries posted around the Hyuuga mansion as she made her way to her sister's room closer to their father's own chambers, on the far side of the compound from where her own room had been relocated after her fall from favor.

The thought that father could be watching had never even crossed her mind as she slipped into Hanabi's room, standing silently over her slumbering younger sister.

Hinata knelt down beside the small, quietly sleeping form. Her free hand brushed softly across her sister's face.

Five year-old Hanabi groaned, blinking away sleep and looking up at her in innocent surprise. "Onee-chan...?"

Pressing the hand over Hanabi's mouth, Hinata used the other to drive the dagger home, straight into her sister's heart.

Hanabi's eyes widened in shock, her cry of pain muffled by her older sister's hand. She gasped, then gurgled, and Hinata removed her hand just as a spurt of blood poured from Hanabi's lips.

"Onee-chan..." Hanabi whispered, wheezing, "...what...why....."

"Rest now." Hinata replied softly, in a whisper. "It'll all be over soon."

Hinata remained silent, staring into her sister's eyes as the light slowly went out of them. It took Hanabi many long, agonizing minutes to die. Whatever poison had tainted the blade was not a quick or painless one. Hinata remained by her side, uncaring of the fact that she could be caught - perhaps even willing it so. But no alarm was raised, neither the guards nor her father stormed the room, and in the end Hinata remained kneeling by her younger sister's rapidly cooling corpse.

Covering her sister's face with her blanket, Hinata slipped out of Hanabi's room and returned to her own without incident, collapsing into her bed and falling asleep instantly.

Some hours later, she jerked upright, an unnatural presence disturbing what had been her calmest slumber in years. Her eyes, glancing around the room, settled upon a shadow in the corner of the room, a shadow that seemed somehow unnatural, menacing.

Then the shadow stepped toward her.

Hinata reacted instantly, rising to her feet and clutching the dagger in a defensive pose. Then she froze, staring down at the blade in her hands. A blade drenched in her sister's blood...

The shadow came closer, revealing a tall, pale man in a robe black as night, the hood drawn low to cover his face in shadow. Reaching out, he plucked the dagger out of Hinata's slackening hands. Raising it up and staring intently at the blood-stained blade.

Then he shifted his gaze to her, and her pale Byakugan eyes had found themselves meeting soulless red eyes that stared deeply into her soul.

And found what they were looking for.

"You sleep soundly for a murderer."

She remembered it quite clearly. _That Night_ the weak, stuttering fool she had once been had died by her hand, drowned in blood.

_That Night_ that she had lost one family, and gained another.

_That Night_ Hinata Hyuuga, daughter and heir of the Hyuuga clan, had slain her sister by her own hand, and thereby forever thrown herself into the familial embrace of the Dark Brotherhood.

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**Author's Note:** I have a confession to make. I like to take the shy, innocent characters in anime or manga and twist them into darkened, unrecognizable parodies of their former selves. It fills me with a certain unholy type of glee. After all, "the more beautiful and pure a thing is, the more satisfying it is to corrupt it", eh?

I'm so going to hell. Maybe I can pull a Black Mage when I get there?

This isn't my first fic with a Dark!Hinata, actually, though it is the first major one to see public release. Because I Can readers are no doubt familiar with my 'Hinata Strikes!' shorts, and I have another Elder Scrolls Hinata fic in the works - a glimpse of which can be seen in 'Weep, Fettlekyn!' - with Hinata as a Dremora-summoning Mehrunes Dagon cultist, but that one's been held up in Writer's Block Land with, hell, almost _all_ of my fics for years now. But this is the first full-length one to reach my autistically high standards of quality (raised after the clusterfucks of sub-par writing that were my earlier fanfics in the Suikoden and Metroid sections, and let's not forget my attempt at crossing NJO era Star Wars with UC Gundam) and thus see the light of day.

There is of course one small problem. That being that the above prologue chapter of Sanguine Night was over a year in the making (I started writing before I published Because I Can), and absolutely nothing has been done for the next chapter so far aside from a rough outline of planned events. I'm also not entirely satisfied with my choice of Itachi for Speaker of the Konoha Sanctuary, mostly because the amount of Deus Ex Sharingan love out there makes me want to throw him under a tractor for the sake of pissing off the more idiotic members of the Naruto fandom (yaoi fangirls can piss off and die in a fire - in that order - because I will _eat my boots_ before I ever do a yaoi fic) and pull out, say-

Wait. Hold that thought, that's a much better idea that what I had originally planned. Changed.

Then why am I leaving the bit about Itachi in there, especially when I changed it before uploading it? To taunt you. _Especially you, Rebecca_.

That's probably not your name, but I'm leaving that in there as well to mess with the heads of all the Rebeccas in the world.

And now I sod off to watch Zero Punctuation. Adios.


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